Meant to be
by Talfryn
Summary: Astoria and Draco are practically meant to be together from the moment of their first proper meeting. But will the real world get in the way? NOTE: 'Meant to be' has now been discontinued. Please see 'Rubies and Emeralds' to follow the next part of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry, I had to reload this because it was having issues displaying. Thanks for your patience!**

**At the moment there is no real plot line, I'm hoping that that will develop as I write ('hoping' being the operative word)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in the story, J.K Rowling does (unfortunately, might I add). What I do own are Astoria's looks and personality, as she was never actually described in the _Harry Potter _series. Damn.**

**Thanks for being interested enough for reading!**

Astoria stepped off of the train, scanning the crowds on the platform half eagerly, and half pensively. Letting the crowds of children and their parents carry her along, she drifted until coming to a halt in front of her mother. She smiled shyly, wondering what her mother would say after their year's separation.

"Oh honey, haven't you grown! You look lovelier than you did when you left," Hannah said, admiring her daughter's long dark brown hair, that even now defied the straightening that it had received earlier, softly falling in waves down her back. "Though you do look a little pale. Have you been eating enough?" she frowned. "Oh well, there's plenty of time to get you back into shape." Hannah smiled a secret little smile, and Astoria froze slightly inside.

She knew that this was coming. When her sister, Daphne, had graduated from Hogwarts two years ago, she was instantly married off to Marcus Flint, an ex-Hogwarts and ex-Slytherin student. Astoria had been apprehensive as her final year at school grew to a close, because she knew her mother would spend the next few months going the through marriage options for her; and she wouldn't get a say in any of it. But she knew that she would just have to accept it, as that's what happened to pure-blood girls from leading Wizarding families.

Turning away from her mother at the sound of someone calling her name, she saw two of her friends coming to bid her farewell. She smiled brightly has she hugged first Louise and then Thomas, her eyes glazing over with unshed tears. Stepping back, she blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes. "Ah, Astoria," Louise cooed. "Don't give me that colour. It's not one of your best and not one that I often want to see." It was a little in-joke in her group of friends, that to tell how Astoria was truly feeling, all you had to do was look at her eyes. Their normal colour was a dark blue-green with a ring of brown around the iris, but now they were more of a grey blue, with the brown turning almost as dark as black.

A tap on her shoulder warned her to hurry up. "I'll send Henwyn often, okay?" Astoria said, thinking of the small grey owl that now sat hooting sleepily behind her. Louise nodded and Thomas just looked mournfully at her. Giving them one last wave, Astoria turned around and steered her trolley into the midst of the crowd.

Dumping her bags onto the floor of her bedroom, Astoria saw that nothing had changed. In fact, it looked as though nobody had stepped foot through the door, apart from the house elves when they came to clean her room. The feature wall was still the same dark purple, glinting with dark and light patches. The bed was still made up in a green embroidered spread, and the quilt that she had made a few years ago still hung on the bathroom door, its leaves hanging at different angles from the green and brown squares.

Gently lifting Henwyn's cage onto her hip, Astoria took it over to the antique stand placed strategically near the window. Tenderly lifting the small owl out and setting her on the stand, Astoria looked at her fondly before opening the window.

Her room was on the second floor of the Greengrass' rather luxurious house. She leaned out of the window, breathing in the warm summer air, wondering about her future and what was going to happen to her.

A number of thoughts all piled into her head at once, some pleasant and some dark and murky. Her mood thoroughly dampened, Astoria withdrew her head back into her room and began to unpack her things.

As she was placing her jewellery box back onto her dresser, she noticed a note stuck onto the mirror. Gently she removed it, peering at the writing on the parchment's surface, at first not understanding what the words meant. A list of names was written on one half of the paper, and on the corresponding half there seemed to be a list of dates and times. It then dawned on her that her mother had already started planning her future; the parchment was a list of parties and their times and dates. Looking at the top name, Astoria sighed. The first party was to be at the Malfoys', a family that she absolutely detested.

She remembered their son, Draco Malfoy, from when he was at school with her, but as he had been two years her senior, she had not seen him for a long time nor had she known him well. Casting her mind back, she vaguely remembered a mop of white-blond hair and piercing blue eyes. And an attitude that could rival . . . well, anything. As she hadn't known him well, Astoria decided to give him the benefit of the doubt when it came to his later, and much darker, years.

But that didn't quell her hate for the rest of the family. They were a rich pureblood family, similar to her own, but much more influential and prejudiced. During the times of the Dark Lord, they had tried to use this influence to turn every pure-blooded family to their side, and as they were doing so, turned every other Wizarding family against the pure-bloods. Although the Greengrass' hadn't followed the other pure-bloods to the dark side, people still spread rumours, and the last year-and-a-bit of Astoria's schooling had been an effort just to get people to believe that she wasn't a Death Eater and she wasn't going to suck out their souls – not that she could've done that anyway if she was a Death Eater – or cast the killing curse.

Gently placing the parchment back onto her mirror she was just about to head into her bathroom to finish unpacking her toiletries, when a short knock on the door stopped her, but before she could reach it to open it, it flew open to reveal her sister and her mother.

"Stori! Darling!" her mother cried. "Look who just apparated!" Daphne had a smug look on her face, but for the life of her, Astoria could not figure out why. "Daphne," she said shortly. The smug smile on Daphne's face increased. "Stori," she replied.

Their mother stood looking between them exasperatedly. She threw her hands up in the air. "Honestly girls," she breathed before moving onto safer ground. "Now, Astoria, Daphne is wearing that rose pink gown of hers, so what are you going to wear?"

"Honestly, I hadn't even thought about it yet." Astoria mentally rummaged through her closet. "How about the dark turquoise one?" Her mother walked over to her cupboard and fished out the dress. It was of a deep turquoise hue, that shimmered with peacock purples and emerald greens as the light moved over it. It had a shallow v-neck, with thin spaghetti straps holding it up, and was fitted until the hips, where it flared out ever so slightly, to drape down her figure until it ended just above her knees. The dress was finished with an inch-and-a-bit thick black velvet ribbon, which ran around the dress just underneath the bust.

Daphne snorted at the choice, but her mother said that "It'll do," and replaced the dress back in the cupboard.

Carefully finishing up the last of her mascara, Astoria stepped back from the mirror and analysed her work. She had outlined her eyes in black eyeliner, and used black mascara over the top, but she hadn't bothered to do anything with her lips, apart from give them a quick gloss-over, as her lips were already a natural rosy pink.

Deciding that she was pleased with her appearance, she went over and picked up her black duffel coat. She collected her wand from her bedside table and carefully slipped it into the long inner pocket. She was about to head down stairs when she noticed her bookshelf, and decided that it couldn't hurt to take a book for entertainment during the duller parts of the evening.

Browsing over the titles that she had not picked up for a year, she decided to choose a simple leather bound Muggle book. Astoria was very interested in the history of Muggles, perhaps because their history was so inexplicably tied with the history of the Wizarding world. This simple book had been published in the 1700s, and was about a family the ruled for a couple hundred years during the Medieval era – the Plantagenets.

Hearing footsteps in the hallway outside of her bedroom, Astoria quickly slipped the book into one of the deep pockets of her coat, then collected it into her arms and made herself look as though she were just about to head downstairs.

Just as she had turned to face the door, her mother burst in.

"Oh good, you're ready," Hannah said as she meticulously scanned her daughter's appearance. "Hmm, I wouldn't have gone that dark around the eyes, but I guess they do make the colour stand out. Oh well, no time to fix it now without you throwing a fit, let's go. Everyone is waiting for us downstairs."

Astoria rolled her eyes and her mother's comment; she would not have thrown a fit. She would've just yelled a bit.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Astoria had been the last one to floo into the Malfoy estate. Looking around, she noticed grand pillars of marble, and richly carpeted floors, but everything seemed to have been dulled, as though a thin grey mist hung over everything.

Shaking her head, she followed her family to where Narcissa Malfoy was standing. The absence of her husband stood out sharply – he was currently in Azkaban, serving out a 30 to life sentence.

"Mr and Mrs Greengrass, so pleased that you could make it. Hello Daphne, good to see you again, and you must be Astoria. I'm afraid that I haven't had the pleasure of meeting you before." Narcissa managed to greet the whole family in only one breath, without really even seeing any of them – Astoria was impressed, but before she could return the greeting, Narcissa turned to Hannah and then drew her away, saying that they had some important gossip to catch up on. Astoria rolled her eyes and went with the rest of her family to the coat room, where she left her coat, wand, and, unfortunately, book.

Hours had passed, and Astoria found herself sitting in a dark corner on the balcony in a rug. She had been asked to dance numerous times, but declined most of them, not wanting her mother to see that she had accepted, and would therefore, to her mother's mind, happily marry the ugly potato.

She had needed somewhere to sit quietly, and after finding a rug on one of the chairs on the balcony, she retreated to the dark patch behind a huge pot plant, content just to watch and listen to the revelries.

She'd been there for a good half an hour, contemplating the various young men that she had seen that night. She also thought about how after each dance, she'd tell her mother what she thought of her partner, hoping that it'd have a bit of a sway over the final choice. By the time the footsteps approached her, she was deep in thought and unaware of the world around her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all those that commented and/or added the story to their alert lists. Here's the next chapter! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I still don't own the characters, and probably never will, as I don't think that J.K Rowling would relinquish the book and movie rights . . . double damn.**

Draco bowed to the pretty blonde once the music ended. It was obvious that she wanted another dance, but he really didn't care. Walking over to his mother, he prepared himself for the barrage of questions and comments.

"She's pretty Draco! Honey I think – " Narcissa began.

Draco shook his head mournfully. "Pretty, sure, but too docile. There's no fight in her, and you know how I like a good argument. If I had a spat with her, it'd probably just end up with me walking all over her, and she just lying there and taking it."

"Well, yes but – "

"'But' nothing mother. I don't want her." Draco tried to soften the blow with a smile. "Come, we'll find someone eventually."

Narcissa smiled wanly, and nodded as her son moved off.

After a number of dances with equally boring young ladies, Draco had decided that his life was just going to end up having a large number of mistresses. He was fine with that, sure, but he knew that his mother wouldn't be, so he kept dancing with every young lady that he saw, hoping to find someone to his liking.

As the evening grew late, he made his way out onto the balcony for some fresh air and some space from the cloying gasps of pure-blooded girls and their mothers. Leaning on the stone balustrade, he revelled in the feeling of the air on his face. After a few minutes, he steeled himself to go back inside. But as he was turning around, a small shadow on the outer edges of his vision stopped him. There was something wrong with the way that the shadow fell, and he knew that because he spent many of his evenings out on the balcony trying to figure out where to go with his fucked up life.

Softly, he walked over to the pot plant, trying to get his vision to adjust to the deep shadows. He stood just in front of a young girl, curled up in the blanket that he usually kept out here for when the nights grew too long for him to endure. He couldn't make much out about her features, but she looked fairly small and fragile, with long hair (was it that dark? Or was it just the shadow?) falling down her back and curling over her shoulders. She hadn't noticed him approach, so he figured that she was either sleeping or was really drunk and had been moved there by a kind-hearted soul.

He cleared his throat, trying to attract her attention. When she still didn't notice him, he frowned, and sat cross-legged down beside her. Gently, he tapped her shoulder, wondering if he knew this girl and had already danced with her – the odds here were very high – or she was one that preferred to keep to the shadows – not so likely, but he'd rather find a new girl to dance with than face the hall alone.

As his fingers brushed her skin and the hair that covered it, he felt something like a premonition. As she proceeded to jump out of her skin, he wondered if it was a good or bad feeling.

"Shit!" the girl gasped. After she caught her breath, and had visibly slowed her heart, she started to tell him off. "Can't you mind your own business? How would you like it if some random just came and tapped you on the shoulder, intruding in places that they shouldn't? You should take better care next time, and just leave the poor girl alone!"

Mutely, Draco got to his knees, and then held out his hand to help her up, slightly puzzled by her reaction. Either he had frightened the poor thing worse than she would care to admit, or she was the one girl here with some genuine spice.

She looked at him suspiciously for a moment and then took his hand, rising gracefully to her feet. Slowly, he walked backwards, drawing her into the light so that he could see her better. She frowned as he moved her, but didn't say anything, as if she guessed his intentions, but didn't really care.

Now that she was in the light, Draco was able to see that she was indeed a tiny girl; any man would be afraid of doing anything too rough in case he broke her, but the spirit he had glimpsed before was evidence that there was something hard and stubborn inside her. Her hair was indeed as dark as it looked in the shadows, flowing down to about her mid back, but with small tendrils of it curling over her shoulders and her chest. Her eyes were one of the most unusual colours her had ever seen; a blue-green with a golden ring around her iris, the dark outline of her eyes and the pale cream of her skin greatly accentuating their colour. "Wow," he breathed. Those eyes of hers sharpened as she heard that, but they had obviously caught what he was thinking, and as he watched, they changed into a misty aqua, the gold almost disappearing and a thick smoky grey outline appearing around the blue. "Shit," he said, awed, and peered closer at her eyes.

She sighed and then stepped back, dropping his hand and looking away.

"Oh! I'm sorry," Draco stammered. "I didn't mean – "

"It's okay," she said, in a voice that was soft and clipped, but he felt, rather than heard, an undertone of harshness. This one was a complicated one. "Um, would you like to dance?" Never had he been so unnerved before to have to _stammer_ out that line.

She looked at him from out of the corner of her eyes, holding him like that for what seemed like forever, but would have only been a second or two. She shrugged, "Why not?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry that I'm late for the weekly update - life got in the way. Stupid life.**

**Anyway, this chapter is rather short, and as I am feeling rather nice today, I am also posting chapter four a week ahead of time. Woot! **

**So feel lucky.**

**Disclaimer: Please don't sue me for writing this story. It had to be written . . . I think. Well, it was telling me to write it. So I did. And I still don't own Draco or Astoria or Daphne or Hannah or Narcissa or whoever else is currently possessed by J.K Rowling. Unfortunately. Stupid life.**

Astoria watched out of the corner of her eye with amusement as this handsome man stood stammering in front of her.

She had been a little unnerved when he touched her, but it was probably only because she had been so deep in thought and never had she expected such a debonair male to command her attention. And when he saw her eyes, shit, he looked as though he had been petrified by a beautiful basilisk – completely enraptured. But now he wanted her to dance? What was she meant to say to that, apart from _Yes, you most handsome and ravishing creature_?

Putting an essence of bravery into her voice, she managed to shrug and utter a "Why not?"

Gently he took her hand and led her through the thick crowd of people until they reached the dance floor. She had the sharp feeling of eyes boring into her back; a feeling that she usually tried to avoid at all costs, as she hated being the centre of attention. Gently, soft as air, he placed his hands low on her waist and pulled her close to him. _Shit_, she thought. _What now?_ before remembering to place her hands on his shoulders. That took a bit of effort, as he was rather tall and it's always hard when you're short to not look stupid next to a tall person. Plus, his shoulders were at her eye level, might she add; a very awkward position to try and maintain.

As they spun around the floor, she felt as though she knew this man, but only vaguely, of course. If she had actually known him, she knew that she would never have forgotten his face. It was only at the end of the dance, when the man had only stopped and not relinquished hold on her waist yet, that she noticed Narcissa Malfoy, watching like a hawk, and the similarities between her and this young man.

As it hit her, _Draco Malfoy_, ran through her head over and over again, _Shit shit shit!_ "I've got to go," she said, disentangling his hands from her waist. She then walked calmly and straight-backed through the crowd, astonishing the people that she pushed past. On the outside she looked cold as ice, but on the inside she felt a darkness creep over her thoughts and knew that she had just buried herself deep in dragon shit. Keeping her face impassive until she reached the coat cupboard, Astoria snatched her coat from its hook, dug out her wand and apparated back to her room.

Hot water poured over her body as Astoria tried to sort out her feelings and the conflicting thoughts that ran rampage through her head. _The most handsome man in the whole Wizarding world just asked her to dance and was completely taken with her, but he was from one of the most fucked-up families that there could possibly be, and he was known womaniser. At least he didn't know her name. She should send him an owl. No! Worst thing to do, ever. She should keep cool and distanced._ A marriage was on the horizon and she shouldn't - couldn't - tangle her loyalties, especially with someone who would just use her before shoving her aside as soon as a new and better girl appeared.

Getting out of the shower and drying herself with the big fluffy purple towel, Astoria decided that she would just pretend that the meeting and the dance had never happened, and prepare herself for her marriage.


	4. Chapter 4

**As promised in my previous note, a second chapter. Two for the price of one! Except that you didn't pay for it. Maybe I should start charging. I could a lot with a litle extra money. Like eat. That'd be good.**

**Disclaimer: As repeated in the previous three chapters, I don't own these characters. Or places. Except for _Tracy's Transformations _as I'm pretty sure that J.K Rowling hasn't invented that yet. And if she has, I'm sorry, so I now hereby declare that I don't own anything in this story. Except for the story.**

**Have fun! **

Draco stood there, dumbstruck, as one of the most captivating girls he had ever met removed his hands from her waist and calmly walked away. He blinked a couple of times, regathering his senses, and then started to go after her, but before he could take more than three steps, his mother intercepted him.

"Oh darling! Who was that? Wasn't she pretty? Why'd she walk away? I hope you didn't do anything to upset her!"

Draco then did something he had never done before, not even in his turbulent adolescent years – he pushed past his mother. He then threw over his shoulder that he didn't know who she was and that he had to find her, before breaking into a run.

A torturous fifteen minutes passed, where Draco searched every place that he could think of, but he couldn't find the girl anywhere.

He returned dejectedly to his mother, who was talking to some influential family with a daughter that kept giving him coy looks from beneath her eyelashes. Standing there looking at the girl, he found himself comparing her to _the_ girl. This one was taller and curvier, but didn't have the fragility that surrounded the other one like a protective cloak, hiding the inner steel. Her eyes were brown and obviously didn't change with her emotions. _Boring_. And the blonde hair didn't hold much of an appeal to him anymore. Ever since he told Pansy Parkinson to _piss off and never come back, and I fucking-well mean it!_ for what must have been the fiftieth time, he had had an unsated need for blondes. But that need had apparently ended with a look and touch of an unknown girl that he had never met before, and it was unlikely that he never would have if this party had not been arranged..

Suddenly, he realised that his mother must have met the girl when her family arrived. Turning to her and completely cutting off her conversation, he began to question her about the girl.

"I'm sorry sweetie, but I just don't remember. Can we talk about this later please?" Narcissa said sweetly, but the iron in her eyes betrayed the fact that she was annoyed. Being in the foul mood that he was, Draco abruptly felt the need to wound those around him; something that he often did when frustrated. His voice dripping with poison, he commented snidely to his mother that "you better find out, because she's the only girl that I'll consider marrying," before stalking away, leaving his mother and the two other women with aggrieved looks on their faces.

Three days later, Draco was in the Muggle world. His feet had taken him there for no particular reason, apart from the fact that he had to go somewhere to get away from his mother and her pictures of pure-blooded girls that were constantly lying around in places where he could easily see them.

Walking behind a short fat man, Draco followed him when he turned into a department store, simply because he had nothing better to do. Dejectedly, he walked between the metal racks of clothes and paraphernalia that not only looked cheap, but was cheap. He soon became aware of the songs being played over the speakers that Muggles seemed to put everywhere, as if they think that playing music can make one feel better.

The songs switched from some boy with a high-pitched voice singing about his 'baby', to a darker song that automatically sank its hooks into him, causing him to stop in the middle of an aisle full of men's wear, his hand placed on the shoulder of one particularly ugly yellow plaid business shirt.

_Break down,_

_I can see you're upset,_

_So high,_

_But I couldn't help it._

_I wish I could just forget you,_

_Up now,_

_Heart beats racing,_

_One touch, _

_Now I'm faking._

_This time, there's no escaping you._

Draco could feel the words bore into the deepest crevices of his heart and stick there. He was caught, paralysed, by the heavy beat pounding out of the small black box positioned on the roof.

_Where's my angel?_

_Go on and take my life._

_Where's my angel?_

_I need someone here tonight._

_Where's my angel?_

_Go on and take my life._

_Where's my angel?_

_I need someone here tonight._

A young female clerk came over to him, asking if she could do anything from him. Snapping out from his reverie, he looked down into her eyes, and figured that she looked as though she'd prefer to give him a blow job than anything else.

"Erm, yes, actually, there is. Do you think I could have that song?" He asked, his movement coming back to him, flashing his trademark debonair smile that no female could refuse.

_So cold,_

_But you have my body,_

_One kiss,_

_And this is gonna haunt me._

_My God,_

_You look so lovely, girl._

_Hearts gone,_

_Tonight is your chance,_

_You trade love,_

_For a little romance._

_Too late, this will be the last dance, last dance, girl._

"Sure," she said, giving him what she probably thought was a seductive smile. "Right over here." Beckoning with her finger, she led him over to a small cramped desk. Taking a silver disk, she inserted into a box, and then waited for the box to spit the disk back out again.

_Where's my angel?_

_Go on and take my life._

_Where's my angel?_

_I need someone here tonight._

_Where's my angel?_

_Go on and take my life._

_Where's my angel?_

_I need someone here tonight._

She then took the disk and put it into a little paper envelope. She also scrawled a series of numbers down on the envelope before sealing it. "My number," she said, with another one of those face-distorting smiles. He smiled back, unwittingly recalling the disaster that had ensued after he bedded his first and last Muggle when she saw his wand poking out of the pocket of the pants that lay crumpled on the floor – not something that he wished to repeat.

_You say you want it,_

_You love me then thought it,_

_You're breaking my heart,_

_And you're taking me down._

_You say you want it,_

_Break it down, and live it up, take this in, and beat it up._

_You love me then thought it,_

_Break it down, and live it up, take this in, and beat it up._

_You're breaking my heart,_

_Break it down, and live it up, take this in, and beat it up._

_And you're taking me down._

_Break it down, and live it up, take this in, and beat it up._

_Where's my angel?_

_Go on and take my life._

_Where's my angel?_

_I need someone here tonight._

_Where's my angel?_

_Go on and take my life._

_Where's my angel?_

_I need someone here tonight._

_Where's my angel?_

_Where is she?_

When Draco got back to Diagon Alley, he instantly headed for _Tracy's Transformations_, a shop that converted Muggle technology into something that witches and wizards could use in their homes without having to go to the trouble of buying and using Muggle instruments.

Handing the silver disk in its little paper cover to the witch as the counter, he watched her cast a series of charms over it. She then took a small black pebble and cast a similar set over that one. "Now," the witch said, turning back to him with the pebble in her hand. "You want a word that you can remember easily. It doesn't have to be in Latin, and it tends to help if it isn't. So, have you got a word in mind?" Draco thought for a moment, thinking about words that best described the girl. Unfortunately, the one that he thought fit most appropriately was also the most clichéd, so he chose something simpler. "'Who'," he said.

"'Who'," the clerk repeated. "Are you sure? You can't change it once it's been set." Draco thought about it. He was about to confirm it, when he realised that it'd be more appropriate if he just used the name of the song. "No wait, change it. I've decided on 'Where's my angel?'" The witch looked at him like there was something seriously wrong with him, but that could just be because of the reputation that he received during and after the War. At least she hadn't run away screaming, which had happened on numerous occasions before – for some reason, store witches didn't find him as attractive as drunk whores. Nonetheless, the witch made sure that he was confident about his choice. "You're absolutely sure?" Draco nodded. "Okay then," and she began to cast another charm over the rock.

"There," she said, handing it to him. He thanked her, paid, and then left the shop.


	5. Chapter 5

**In a repeat of my previous good mood, I've decided to be kind and give you the next two chapters in one go - but don't expect me to keep this u for too long! Another reason why I posted both of these chapters at once is that I don't really like either of them, but they're essential to the later chapters that I have written, so you're just going to have to put up with two, or three, more crappy chapters.**

**And just as a note, I forgot to mention (silly, silly me) that the song in the prevous chapter is called 'Where's My Angel' by Metro Station.**

**Please don't sue me. I was tired.**

**Disclaimer: I still haven't made any progress on the purchase of the _Harry Potter _series . . . I think J.K Rowling is ignoring my emails . . . **

Astoria lay on her bed, pretending that she was stranded on a beach, the water that weighed her down slowly leaking out into the sand like blood. She tried to lose herself amongst the places of her imagination, but no matter what she did she couldn't shake the feeling of Draco's hands on her hips – it was as though their presence had burned their way into the deepest part of her being. It was this touch and the look of awe on his face that had drawn her in, she knew it. It was partly because no other boy had ever looked at her that way and partly because the prospect of marriage was making her heart run away with fantasies.

She had been trying to act normal in the eyes of her family, and it had been mostly successful. Daphne had gone back to her husband's home about a week ago and her father was too caught up in his work to notice her – just like always. Hannah, however had detected the slip in her daughter's attitude, but put it as simply being the fact that she had graduated from school and was unlikely to see her friends again. The only reason that she had not picked up the real cause, was that neither she nor Daphne had actually seen Astoria dancing with Draco, and only knew of a mysterious, but beautiful goddess – not a word that she would have used to describe her daughter, so she had instantly dismissed the hope that it might have been her.

Getting up from her bed, Astoria walked over to her mirror, her fantasy falling off of her like a heavy woollen blanket. The parchment that had been stuck on the silver surface told Astoria that the next party was to be held at the Nott Residence in three days. _Three days_, she sighed wistfully, before frowning and both mentally and physically slapping herself.

Reminding herself of all of Draco's faults, even the ones that were purely rumour, she once again tried to strengthen her barriers against them, but they failed once her eyes fell on Henwyn. Sitting down at her desk, she pulled out her quill and a sheet of fresh parchment, planning on telling Draco to leave her alone and stop haunting her thoughts. But instead she found herself printing two simple words: _It's me_.

Quickly, before her rational side could overcome her heart's sudden surge, she rolled up the parchment and gave it to Henwyn, telling her to deliver it to Draco.

Watching Henwyn's fluffy form disappear into the distance, Astoria groaned, laying her suddenly-heavy head into her hands. _What had she done?_


	6. Chapter 6

**The second chapter in a run of crappy chapters. Enjoy it as much as possible . . . **

**As a side note, if you have any ideas for the story (which I would very much appreciate, as it is just sort of dawdling along) or the characters or any other stories that you want written, you can contact me at .com**

**Disclaimer: Still not owning anything . . . **

Draco sat at his desk, trying to balance his family's accounts, but no matter what he did, he could not concentrate. As he had done for the past eleven days, he whispered his magic words. A strong beat filled the room and Draco's body, so strong that he almost missed the pecking noises at his window.

It was too early in the morning – or late at night for that matter – for it to be the post. He got up and opened the study window, letting in a small grey owl. It was about the size of a large apple, fitting neatly into the palm of his hand, and was covered in ruffled grey feathers that looked as though it was the victim of a honey-and-feather-pillow prank, as the Muggles call it. Hooting softly, it dropped a small strip of parchment into his hands.

Setting the owl down, he gently unfolded the note, and seeing the two words imprinted in the parchment, he rushed to grab a quill. Shoving the pile of parchments filled with numbers off of his desk, he grabbed a small clean square. But that was as far as he got. After weeks of dictating letters to himself that he would send to the girl as soon as he found out her name, he couldn't think of a single thing to write that wouldn't sound cheesy on paper.

"Draco, sweet?"

His head shot up to look at the now-open door. Delilah, his current mistress, stood there with a robe loosely wrapped around her full figure. Walking over to him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and sat on his lap, trying to tempt him with her hot kisses. "Come back to bed," she purred into his mouth. "In a minute," he promised, pushing her off of his lap. "I've just got one last thing to do." Delilah pouted prettily, batting her eyelashes at him before sauntering seductively out of the study.

Knowing that he didn't have much time before Delilah came back, he quickly scribbled a place and time for them to meet tomorrow, hoping fervently that she would turn up.


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologise profusely for the delay in posts, a couple of annoying little things called 'school work' and 'assessment' and 'my sister' got in the way. I am however only posting two chapters, as I am a little behind on my writing quotient. Thanks for your patience (or not. I know that I would get incredibly mad about the delay!) and I promise that I will try to make it up to you!**

Listening to the sounds of her sister eating, Astoria couldn't help but wince. Daphne should have gone home ages ago, but had lingered on, probably more for the thrill that she got out of bullying Astoria. At the moment, Astoria really couldn't have cared less; her heart was at war with her head over the letter that she sent last night.

She was glad that she sent it; it seemed to get something off of her chest. But what if he just thought of her as a dalliance? What if he didn't even realise who it was that sent the note? What if he didn't care?

She was startled out of her reverie by Henwyn flying down to perch on the edge of her bowl. Astoria watched the owl wide-eyed as it sipped milk from her cereal, a small piece of parchment lying discarded next to her bowl. "Mum!" Daphne screeched. "Stori is letting Henwyn drink from her bowl again!" Hannah looked at Astoria sharply. "Really darling, must you? That is so disgusting that I'm not even going to list the things that you could catch. Now," she continued, frowning, "finish up and then take Henwyn upstairs and feed her. Then come back downstairs. I want to discuss your recent behaviour with you." And with that, Astoria was dismissed.

Gently, she scooped Henwyn up and at the same time concealed the parchment square in her other hand.

_Please,_

_Meet me at the Hog's Head at 10pm on Tuesday._

_I need to see you._

_DM_

Astoria felt the breath inside her freeze. _So he did care_. As if moving in an Unreality, she fed Henwyn and then descended downstairs to talk to her mother. Thankfully Daphne had left the room, so she was able to sit down and talk to her mother without the bitch's sniggering.

It was 8:47pm and Astoria had no idea how she was going to get through the next hour and thirteen minutes without screaming. To calm her nerves, she took a long, hot, bubble bath. When the water started to become cold, Astoria got out and dried herself. She put her PJs on and then went to her cupboard looking for something to wear. Mournfully she stroked the green and silver tie that hung on a hook on the inside of the door; she would never wear it again.

Flicking through the hangers, she looked for something to wear – something that wasn't overstated, but looked nice on her. She decided on her favourite pair of grey jeans and laid them on her bead. She then flicked through her small amount of t-shirts. Her eyes then fell on a dark grey one, with faded beading and writing and red hearts on it, trying to remember how it looked on her. From what she could remember, it clung sharply to her breasts, but fell down from there, not hugging her waist, but making her look slim and curvy, the latter being something that she wasn't.

At 9:50, she went downstairs to bid goodnight to her parents, saying that she was exhausted and wanted an early night. As an afterthought, she then added that she probably wouldn't be downstairs for breakfast, as she was going to take a sleeping draught, in order to recover her full energy, and could they only send the house elves to wake her if she wasn't up by twelve?

She then hurried back up the stairs to her bedroom and shut and locked the door. Pulling on her jeans, a thought from her unconscious told her that she should put on her good bra and panties. Preferring not to analyse that, she removed her jeans and selected the undergarments from their draw before putting them on and replacing her jeans. After she pulled on her t-shirt, she went over to her mirror and did her makeup exactly the same way that she had done it at the party.

When she was satisfied with her appearance, she grasped her wand, turned all of her lights off and then apparated to the Hog's Head.

By that time it was 10:04pm.


	8. Chapter 8

**Oh my gosh! Talfryn has broken her Astoria/Draco/Astoria/Draco chapter patern! *GASP* Well, live with it. _I_ had to. And it almost killed me. **

**Anyway, I will now take the time to promote a fantastic creation called _NaNoWriMo_. This is where you go Nano-what-now? I repeat, _NaNoWriMo_. It stands for _National Novel Writing Month_. Making a little more sense now? Great. I'm glad. _NaNoWriMo_ is a semicompetition that is run from November 1st-30th. Basically you have to write 50,000 words (a novel) without editing (and that's massive editing, not just the occasional (or frequent) spelling mistake), without re-writing (something that I am massively guilty of), and one, yes ONE, story. This year I am taking the time to enter, just because is excellent for tise those creative writers out there. Your own characters, your own plot, your own story. You may even be offered a deal through an editor if your story is good enough. But that's not the point. The point is to have fun and learn about your own style of writing. So, if you feel that you can be bothered, and even those that can't, I wish to see (metaphorically, of course) you there. **

***hits various buttons***

**Okay, so for some reason I can't give you either my username or the website, so if you wish to know more about it, and I'd love you forever if you did, just PM me!**

**And now, to the pitifully short chapter that the meanie author has left you to devour!**

Astoria stood outside of the Hog's Head, battling with the opinions of her mind and heart. One part of her felt as though she needed to use this meeting as closure, and then put both him and everything that had happened out of her mind; it was improper for a pure-blood witch to do anything that would jeopardise her own – and her family's – name. But another part of her said that this meeting was risky, _who knew what would happen?_, and that she should just go home and stop this foolishness until it became something damaging irreparable. The final opinion of her heart said that she should waltz in there, get incredibly wasted and then fuck Draco back at his place. That option wasn't even being considered because of how stupidly, risky, dumb, irresponsible, stupid, shitty, idiotic, fucked up and stupid (did she already say stupid?) it was. No, she couldn't do that, but what _was _she going to do?


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi readers.**

**This is an _Author's Note_ if you didn't guess. If you did, well, clap clap.**

**This is an _apologetic _Author's Note, for those that are a step ahead from the rest.**

**It's apologising for not updating for a couple of weeks, and for that I'm really sorry. I have actually been away for a couple of weeks, and I forgot my USB. Smart me. You can now all send me hate mail. I give you permission.**

**Also, heads up, I won't be updating for at least another five or six weeks. Possibly seven. This is my last term of school until the summer holidays, and as it is really short all of my assessment is within the first five to seven weeks. Hence the delay.**

**Thanks for being understanding little munchkins. For those that aren't understanding, well, it's not my fault. You'll just have to rage, send me hate mail, rant about me on every forum that you belong to and then . . . get over it.**

**Bye! See you in a couple of weeks!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Helloooo! I'm baaack!**

**Miss me? I thought so.**

**As I have been away longer than I promised, I've decided to upload no less than THREE, yes THREE, new chapters. THREE! **

**Do you love me now? I feel loved.**

***curtains open***

**Now we shall resume right from where we left off! xD**

Draco tapped his Firewhisky bottle impatiently: it was now 10:15 and he'd never been one for waiting. He shifted in his seat to peer around a pole as another patron opened the door, hoping that he could catch sight of her walking into the bar. No such luck. He slouched dejectedly and took a long swig from his bottle. He wanted to say that he'd wait all night for her, but the odds were that he'd give up at 10:30.

To entertain and distract himself, Draco tried to decide which one of the girls at the bar that he'd take home if she didn't show up.


	11. Chapter 11

Astoria was leaning against the rough outer-wall of the Hog's Head, her mind a whirlpool of indecision and consequences. A wave of despair settled over her, like a slow fog that gradually crept up on her before completely eradicating her vision. In this case the fog had destroyed her sense of independence and her bravery – the two feelings that had led her to meet Draco without her parents' knowledge or consent. She knew that she couldn't go against her mother's wishes of a marriage by jeopardising it with an illicit relationship with Draco, and had she even wanted that more than anything else in the world, she simply could not have done it; there was too much at stake for her to want something outside of the interests of her family.

Slipping down to sit curled up at the base of the wall, Astoria pulled her wand out preparing to apparate back to her room, but she did not get there before the tears had spilled down her cheeks to dry in cold trails down her face, the cool breeze of freedom slipping away from her with one swish-and-flick.


	12. Chapter 12

**I have made this chapter extra long because there may be another - long - intermission. Sorry. **

**You still love me though, right?**

Rapidly blinking to try and filter out the harsh light, Draco came to consciousness in a soft and familiar bed. With half lidded eyes he sat up, clutching his head and cursing at the pixies that had decided to practise their heavy metal routine in there before trying to attempt where he was. Soft white linen covered the double bed; cool wooden floors met his bare feet as he swung his legs over the side, gradually regaining his sight; a well-known antique painting of a forest hung on the wall opposite him, next to the window that was letting in the harsh morning light. He registered all of this as coming from his cottage in Llithfaen, so he must therefore be in Wales. The question was though, how did he get there?

Standing up and walking towards the ensuite door, he almost tripped over a bottle. Retrieving it from where it had rolled, he saw that it had held Firewhisky once upon a time and judging from the drop that spilled onto his hand, it must have been last night that it had held the precious liquor.

Not that it was precious to him this morning; he'd rather drink hippogriff piss. Tossing the bottle into the bin that he kept in the bathroom, he went over to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, trying to wake himself up, but not achieving all-too-successfully. He rummaged through the medicine cabinet, hoping to find some Long-Life Morning After Cure. Swearing when he didn't find any, he slowly trudged out of his bedroom and into the hallway, aiming for the kitchen. It wasn't until he got to the doorframe that he noticed that there was already somebody _in _his kitchen.

A tall slender blonde stood looking into the fridge, her body covered with one of his sweatshirts. Leaning against the wood, he tried to figure out who she was and why she was here, but when he couldn't connect the dots from last night to this morning, he started to become alarmed. He remembered sitting at a table in the Hog's Head, waiting for a girl that never came. Groaning to himself, he could only wonder as to how he got from there to his Llithfaen home with a random blonde chick raiding his fridge. Clearing his throat, he took a few tottering steps into the kitchen, intending on interrogating her as to why and how she came to be in his kitchen, but before he could get past the table, she spun around, a sugary smile on her face that was so bright that he almost retched onto the floor.

"You're finally awake!" she drawled in a voice that could wake the dead, so high pitched and grating that it set Draco's teeth on edge. Putting on what would have been a seductive smile if the circumstances had been different, she continued on to say that she had such a lovely time last night, his apartment was _gorgeous_, she loved his hair . . . blah . . . blah . . . blah . . .

He grimaced, trying to settle the raging earthquake inside his head as well as figuring out how to get this whore out of his kitchen – and apartment for that matter – and letting her know that she was not to come back even if she knew where it was. As his head was too sore to tackle all of this at once, he decided to break it up into steps, the steps as follows.

Step 1. Find out if she knows where she is

Putting on his classic debonair smirk, Draco peered out of the kitchen window as if admiring the surroundings. "Do you know where we are?" he asked as if he valued her opinion. "Well," she began, her voice sending his headache into overdrive. "Judging by the architecture, I'd say that we're somewhere in Cornwall."

Step 1. CHECK

Step 2. Telling her never to come back.

"You know, I had a lovely time last night," _that is, if I could remember it_, "but I'm afraid that you're going to have to leave. Your parents must be awfully worried about you."

"Oh no, my parents never worry about me! They think that I can handle myself," she smiled, twisting her hips this way and that whilst leaning on the kitchen sink.

"Still, I think it would be best if you left now."

Putting on the most ridiculous pout that Draco had ever seen in a long history of having women pout at him, the blonde continued to deflect his intentions, getting agitated as she realised that Draco's blue eyes had turned to harsh grey ice. Losing all control on his temper, he finally resorted to snapping at her, "get the fuck out of my house, whore!" before stomping to the front door and opening it, because he wasn't sure if she was a Muggle or a witch, the door had seemed like a safe option. Another reason was that it clearly displayed his message as it was situated down a short corridor and was visible from the kitchen sink, where the blonde now stood. Roughly gesturing towards the street, he watched as she quietly padded down the hallway, that accursed pout still on her face.

It was only once she stood in the doorframe that she seemed to get the message that he actually wanted her leave and wasn't about to turn this into some sort of kinky game. Sighing deeply she fluttered her eyelashes up at him before bunching a corner of the sweatshirt that she was wearing and saying "Fine, but I'm keeping this," before pulling wand out from underneath it and apparating.

Step 2. CHECK

Step 3. Getting rid of her – CHECK

_Two birds, one stone_, Draco though smugly to himself before walking tenderly back to his bedroom. Gently laying himself down on the bed, he decided that he really couldn't be bothered to make a potion for his hangover and decided to get rid of it the Muggle way – sleeping it off.


	13. I'm baaack

I'm baaack.

Are you happy now? You should be.

Thank you to all of those special people (you know who you are) who told me to get off my arse and start writing again, because guess what? You made me get off my arse and start writing again.

I apologise for my holiday, but I've had a bit of a busy year, what with exams and school. But because of that, I've had a bit of a creative backlog, and now it all just has to come out. So, what I've done is started a new story, _Rubies and Emeralds_, which still follows Draco and Astoria, but picks up about three months after you last saw them.

I'll probably be uploading about once every two weeks, in allowance with my exams and school work.

The first chapters of _Rubies and Emeralds _will be uploaded within the next few days, for your amusement.

xoxo Talfryn


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